The Cure
by MajinSakuko
Summary: Complete! Hogwarts, 7th year, after Harry defeated Voldemort, Severus has lots of spare time, and Remus finds himself subject to unforeseen advances.
1. Unexpected

Title: The Cure

Chapter: 1. Unexpected

Author: MajinSakuko

E-Mail: MajinSakukoyahoo.de

Beta-Reader: drusillasrain, Xterm

Dedicated to: Vaughn, because I nicked a sentence – no, she allowed it ;)

and Mister Cellophane, 'cause I just realised he could think I stole his plot, which I didn't!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, JKR everything else

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing/Main-Chara: RL/SS

Rating: PG-13

Genre/s: Drama, Romance (Slash)

Warning/s: C/D, OOC, Remus' POV!

Summary: Hogwarts, 7th year, after Harry defeated Voldemort, Severus has lots of spare time, and Remus finds himself subject to unforeseen advances.

A/N: And very special greetings to PERSEPHONE LUPIN

"Don't even presume that this has been my idea," Severus snarled, fists clenched at his sides.

"No, no," muttered Remus with a gentle smile, "I'd never."

He'd never presume Severus could like or even merely stand him, he'd never imagine Severus could do something – especially of this magnitude – for him, and he'd never presume Severus could find it in himself to sacrifice his free time to free Remus of his inner beast. Never. Until now.

Remus hadn't settled into his new life yet but he knew exactly what he needed to put the finishing touches to it – Severus was standing right in front of him, he was alive, he was well and he wouldn't put so much distance between them for much longer if Remus could help it.

"Dumbledore," growled Severus, giving the impression of rolling his eyes skywards though he kept his chilly gaze fixed on Remus' face, "obviously has forgotten what it means to have to try and teach those dunderheads he refers to as students. After the Dark Lord's downfall their attention spans are even more microscopic than before."

"I see," said Remus. "But you can't hold it against them, can you? Don't you feel like celebrating, as well? I mean, our generation really hasn't known anything but war. And now that it's over-"

"I am celebrating," Severus snapped, interrupted the werewolf, "silently! And I would like to continue doing so, were I not forced to spend my time with you!" The Potions master brought the whole 'spitting venomously' thing to an entirely new level, and were it not for the fact that Remus knew that Severus' 'you' meant him, he would be forced to believe that he was referring to something slimy, disgusting and/or revolting.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy your company as much as you will enjoy mine," Remus said softly.

Severus glared at him. "I'd rather not stay in the same room as you, don't get me wrong. However, I will do what I have to. And you will do what I tell you, understood? If you try to interfere with my work, I won't continue, clear?"

"Crystal clear." Remus smiled. "Anything else I have to know?"

Severus' glare turned suspicious. "That also means your brainless, happy seizures. I know, the Dark Lord's dead and that everyone is celebrating around you, but do try and stay serious!"

Remus sighed, his expression turning sombre. Trust Severus to be as difficult as he can manage. "I am serious; you have no idea how much so. I know that the sole reason that you agree to try and brew the potion for me is that it challenges you," well, he was not absolutely convinced of the fact, "but for me it means freedom of my curse. Do you have the slightest idea how much that means for me?"

"No," said Severus coolly, "and I don't plan to find out. You're right, however, even if it pains me to admit it, the challenge is what made me relent to Dumbledore's request. Your personal gain is of no interest for me."

Remus sighed inwardly. The challenge might be what Severus was anticipating but Remus wanted to change that. His challenge was solving the riddle of the man in front of him. The Potions master was so contradictory, a paradox of his very own, an enigma Remus was looking forward to unravelling.

"Would you care to enlighten me of some of the details of the potion?" Remus asked. "I could make us some tea."

"This is not a social call, so don't try to make this more bearable by sipping your tasteless camomile brew."

"Your company isn't unbearable, Severus," said Remus with a frown.

"Unfortunately, I find myself unable to return this sentiment with a clear conscience."

"Thanks." Remus huffed silently. "And even if my camomile tea were tasteless – which I really have to disagree with – you can always sweeten it."

"Sweets are Dumbledore's area," Severus replied stiffly, "and chocolate doesn't blend too well with tea."

Remus rolled his eyes secretly as he turned around. "So, no tea, I'll refrain from asking whether you want some cookies, then." He gathered a couple of scrolls that lay scattered over his armchair, putting them onto the small wooden desk in the middle of his living room. Quickly, he tidied the area so as to not let the Potions master wait for much longer – Merlin knew not to mess with his temper. "How long do you suppose you'll need to work out the potion's formula?" he asked as soon as he was ready, indicating with an arm movement for Severus to sit down.

The other man remained standing and frowned; his eyes followed Remus' movements as the werewolf lowered himself into his favourite, well-used armchair. "It will take as much time as it needs. I can tell you for sure, though, it won't hurry the progress along if you deem it prudent to lounge," his mouth curled into a distasteful sneer at that, "and offer food and beverages while you could already be useful – however insignificant your input might be."

"What kind of input do you need from me?" Remus asked curiously. Actually, he had thought Severus would only need him to test the final potion. "How can I help you?"

Pulling a small notepad, a quill and a bottle of ink from his inner robe pocket, Severus proceeded to ask some previously formulated questions, ranging from, "What are the exact differences between the transformation with and without Wolfsbane?" to, "How does the wolf influence the mind during the rest of the month, meaning not on the full moon?"

Remus carefully answered every question, his skin tingling with every word leaving his mouth. He hadn't known he could feel so hopeful, in more than one way. Severus was with him, trying to brew the cure for his lycanthropy. Years earlier, the Potions master wouldn't have done it, even if Dumbledore had tried to force him to. But now ...

Remus willed himself to only smile inwardly, not wanting to drive Severus away. He had had this strange kind of crush on the surly, dark man for the longest time. Voldemort's downfall was the sign of a new beginning, and Remus would do anything in his might to make it come true.

The way Severus acted now left Remus feeling peculiarly light-headed. Was it possible that the Potions master reciprocated his feelings? Could he also sense the tentative bonds forming around and between them? Remus was almost optimistic; he only hoped his anxious thoughts weren't displayed openly on his face – or in his mind, for that matter, since Severus was a skilled Legilimens.

"Was that all or do you need to know anything else?"

"That's all for now," Severus replied absently as he quickly looked through his notes before putting his writing equipment back into his robes. "I shall require a small blood sample, though. Come tomorrow at seven in the morning to my office, and if you can manage, on an empty stomach, and yes that includes not having any chocolate – even in the highly unlikely case you were to stumble across a Dementor on school grounds."

"The best part, then, huh?" Remus gave a half-smile. "Didn't know you'd save it."

"The best's always for last," said Severus coldly. "Let it be – now." There was a tentative promise to his words, one Remus couldn't ignore, even if he only projected the meaning he wanted to hear.

Severus prepared himself to leave and Remus leapt to his feet and into action, his body taking over direction, for his mind was too slow to follow. This was a perfect opening, his mouth formed words his brain was too slow to think through before.

"But sometimes," he spluttered hastily, grabbing Severus' sleeve in a firm if clumsy grip to prevent him from leaving, "sometimes that's not a very wise decision!" He didn't know what Severus' words meant, whether he believed himself to be the best, or whether he thought piercing Remus with needles would be the best part of the potion invention, or if he was just saying something to keep Remus thinking so he could ensure his quick escape. But it didn't matter because thinking was not on Remus' immediate agenda anyway.

Or was it? The werewolf didn't know, his thoughts were swirling, trying to discern whether his next move would be his downfall, whether his next move was a wise decision. But he shouldn't be trying to talk himself into it when there was still Severus to convince of the importance.

And before he knew it, Remus was again babbling in a mad rush as if he were afraid to lose his widely known – and often despised - Gryffindor courage the second he slowed down enough to take a breath. Babbling about things that should make no sense to anyone but those who had access to the turmoil in his mind, babbling about things too perfect that even Remus hadn't thought they could ever happen to him. He didn't care if he sounded like a desperate fool, he couldn't have prevented it anyway, and he just wanted Severus to stay a few more moments so he could bring him to stay even longer.

"Because sometimes when you save the best for last and you try and do everything else before it and then, before you even had the chance to realise what has happened in the first place, you find yourself sated, not hungry anymore, and you're forced to leave the best, which you fought and longed so desperately for, for someone else – or let it go to waste ..." Remus trailed off, eyes wide in a mixture of fright and pride of his own daring, and he willed himself still. It wouldn't do to start crying, to boot, and cling onto Severus like a leech – more than he already did, that was.

"I sense there should have been a point somewhere – though I doubt, lacking the obviously needed Gryffindor mind, I could pinpoint exactly what it was," Severus drawled, flicking his gaze to where Remus was still holding his sleeve. "Had I even suspected the true extent of your mental disorder I wouldn't have stayed long enough in your presence to allow-"

Remus' hands snapped upwards, grasping the collar of Severus' waistcoat, and tugged him down harshly. He didn't need to hear the next acerbic words spilling from Severus' mouth; he would disregard it for the time being, as he was intent on bringing those thin, angry lips and the barbed, hurtful tongue to much better use.

He was half a head smaller than the Potions master but he'd be damned if he'd let himself be discouraged by that fact.

It was simply the joining of two pairs of lips, though the term 'simply' was quite disputable. The meeting was rather clumsy, mostly due to the fact that Remus did all the work, holding Severus in place and that said Potions master was momentarily frozen in place, clearly taken off-guard. His lips were weak, in contrast to his posture, even though slightly hunched over, and Remus daringly nudged the tip of his tongue in between those lips to take a taste of something that had been enticingly out of his reach for the longest time.

Remus' heart raced, pumping the blood at top speed through his veins, making it buzz in his ears. He wasn't sure whether he heard anything, whether there were wet sliding noises, whether he – or better yet, Severus – moaned into the kiss. There was only the overly loud thumping in his chest he could register, and as his fingertips brushed softly against Severus' neck, suspiciously close to his pulse, he realised with something akin to satisfaction that the other man's heart rate had sped up as well.

And as suddenly as it had started, the bubble burst just as abruptly – or at least acquired quite a dent.

Severus ripped himself free, holding Remus at arm's length, the palm of his right hand pressing firmly into the werewolf's chest. His own chest was heaving in laboured breathing, lips drawn back into a vicious snarl, normally shallowly cheeks spotted angry red marks, and his eyes glistered irritably from between slitted lids.

"What do you think you're doing, werewolf?" he spat angrily, wiping his mouth with his left hand. "I don't even know where your filthy mouth has been earlier – not that I want to know! Keep your bloody paws to yourself or I'll blow off the potion making - meddling Dumbledore or not! Have I made myself clear or should I rephrase it into easier terms so that even your underprivileged mind can wrap itself around it!"

Severus was seething; Remus felt the hand trembling as it pressed against his chest to keep him at distance. However, he wasn't entirely certain whether the hand should stop the werewolf or him, Remus, from coming too near.


	2. Uncorrected

2. Uncorrected

Harry was lying in the Infirmary, fighting against death, after he'd assured that Voldemort wouldn't win his personal battle with the Grim Reaper. The worlds of both Wizards and Muggles were free of his terror. Slowly, things could get back to normal.

Harry had been willing to sacrifice his life – just like his parents.

Remus slowly blinked his eyes against the incoming rays of light. He stretched his arms, massaging his aching neck. The chairs in the Infirmary were not nearly as comfortable as the armchairs in his chambers. Probably Poppy's doing. Remus sighed and swept his gaze over to the occupant of the bed in front of him, startled to see two shockingly green eyes observing him silently.

Harry Potter, the boy who had finally lived up to his name by ending Voldemort's life, seemed even smaller than he truly was as he was lying in the clean hospital bed. Pale arms, almost as white as the covers, rested upon the blanket. There were no telltale scars marring the delicate looking flesh, no gashes, not even bandages where wounds could have been hidden beneath. Apart from the curse scar on his forehead, in fact, Harry's skin was as unblemished as ever.

"How are you, Harry?" Remus asked gently, brushing his hand over the boy's arm. "Are you feeling any better?"

Harry smiled softly, tilting his head to the side.

"That's good, very good. You'll see, you will be better in no time at all." While the hand stroking Harry's hand was very gentle, Remus' other hand gripped the arm of his chair in a vicelike grip. "Are you hungry? What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? Sausages? Toast? Or anything Pomfrey would approve of?"

The muscles in Harry's right hand flexed once and the boy sighed, closing his eyes.

"All right," whispered Remus, carefully taking his hand away. "I'll let you rest for now."

Noiselessly rising from his sleeping place, Remus' gaze turned cheerless as he surveyed the once again sleeping boy. Long minutes he used cursing Voldemort's unholy bones to hell and back for causing Harry so much hurt. As if he hadn't done enough already while amongst the living, even in his afterlife he couldn't stay away.

Remus felt the bitter taste in his mouth. Severus used his time to research a cure for lycanthropes, but not for Harry. Remus averted his gaze and turned around to leave.

"Did you sleep well?"

Remus' eyes snapped towards the door and he let out a dry chuckle. "Not as well as I would have liked, Albus." He headed to his mentor.

"The chairs here have the habit of causing terrible back and neck ache. I believe Poppy tries to discourage students from visiting for too long." Albus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Extracting one lemon drop for himself, he offered them to Remus, who reclined with a shake of his head. "How is he?"

"I don't know," said Remus, shrugging. "He looks better, though."

Albus nodded.

"Do you think-"

"No."

It was Remus' turn to nod; he did so dejectedly. "Well, I better head down to the dungeons," he sighed. Somehow he couldn't find it in himself to look forward to taking the little blood sample, no matter how much he found Severus' presence exciting. Something about sharp objects in the Potions master's hands left him indistinctly queasy.

"Did Severus talk to you yet?" Albus asked before Remus could leave. His eyes were twinkling oddly.

"Yes," nodded the still-werewolf. "He sought me out yesterday evening." He willed his thoughts away from the events that happened at the end of their little meeting. It was during moments like this he cursed the fact that he was surrounded by Legilimens, and that he wasn't well-versed in the field of Occlumency. "I wanted to thank you for, well, you know."

"No need to thank me, Remus." The twinkling intensified.

"Yes, Albus, there is. I haven't seen the full moon with human eyes since I was a very small child and when Severus is successful ..."

"There is really no need to thank me," Albus repeated, pursing his lips as if trying to keep from smiling too openly. "I am not the only one with good intentions."

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that not everything turns out as it appears," Albus said enigmatically. He shot a quick glance over Remus' shoulder, his eyes turning sad shortly, before he fixed Remus again with his twinkling gaze. "Voldemort is dead. Severus has made his amends and more. It is not my place to tell him what to do with his spare time." He lowered his head with a smile, his eyebrows rising.

Remus' mind needed a few moments to process his words. Then his eyes widened. "It was his idea?" he asked incredulously, a butterfly wreaking havoc in his belly. "He wants to find the cure for me?"

Albus merely smiled.

"But why- I mean, he said that you-" Remus shook his head, a smile and a frown battling for dominance on his face. "He wanted me to know that he brewed the potion, though."

"Recognition was always very important for Severus," said Albus. "And after the Ministry of Magic declined my request to award him the Order of Merlin ... You know how he is, Remus. Severus needs the respect, even if he doesn't show it openly, he needs it. He requires acknowledgement above everything else, and that is his way to acquire it."

"But why would he imply that you forced him to do it?"

"You do know Severus Snape, don't you?" chuckled Albus. "He would never admit that he actually wanted to help you."

Suddenly, there was a second butterfly in Remus' belly, doing silly flips around the first one. "He did, I mean, he does, really?" And then the two butterflies started to recreate frantically, filling his belly with dozens of madly fluttering wings. Remus knew he couldn't keep the silly grin from his face, so he didn't even try.

Albus sighed, his expression sobering slightly. "A werewolf's transformation has always been not only painful but dangerous, as well. You have the fortune of being very healthy, Remus, many other werewolves aren't as lucky."

"Yes." Even though Remus had been near the fine line separating him from a life of poverty, he had always been able to rely on his natural healthy stature.

"Apparently, the transformation, as the time wears on, becomes even more dangerous to the infected. There have been more and more deaths in the last months." Albus sighed and the twinkling diminished entirely. "It seems as if Voldemort himself had provided some kind of potion to them to help his dark creatures with the change, though Severus didn't brew it. You, Remus, were always very kind-hearted, so the wolf couldn't grasp you fully during the full moon ... Many of the other infected, however, seemed to seek the dark power, maybe even willingly became werewolves, I don't really know. All I do know is that the transformation could get dangerous for you, as well."

Remus took it in silently, vowing to woo Severus earnestly now that he knew of the man's secret intentions.


	3. Unprotected

3. Unprotected

Eight days after his conversation with the Headmaster, Remus found himself in front of Severus' office once more. He knocked sharply, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought of his beloved one – for he loved the Potions master, that he was sure by now.

"If you have not been poisoned and are in dire need of an antidote only I can provide, I suggest you leave immediately if you value your life," greeted Severus' voice friendly as ever through the still closed oak door.

Remus sighed, opening the door and entering with a small nod. "It's me."

"Oh, it's just you, Lupin," muttered Severus, proceeding to focus his concentration on the cauldron set upon his desk. "Come in already and close the door. I don't need any more unwanted spectators..." He measured three drops of some dark crimson liquid into the cauldron that caused the concoction to erupt in bubbles. This seemed to be the required reaction because Severus' face didn't show any kind of worry.

"How is it going, Severus?" Remus asked interestedly, passing behind the Potions master to look over his shoulder into the cauldron. He brushed the other man's arm gently before he settled on the desk's edge, tilting his head sideways.

Severus squared his shoulders with a jerk, not looking up from the chopping board where he was currently cutting some squishy looking ingredient for the further use in the potion. "I'll cure you of that ridiculous notion. You cannot touch me," he growled, his lips thinning, "while I'm brewing an important potion."

"But I can touch you after you've finished?" Remus smiled mischievously.

Severus remained silent, adding the cut pieces of what looked like some kind of slug to the cauldron.

Remus frowned. "Is that the last potion I have to test?" In the last week he had tested four different concoctions, one viler than the next. Nothing had had the desired effect Severus had said. Remus couldn't tell, there hadn't been a full moon in the last week, but obviously Severus could somehow tell when the lycanthrope had been healed and when not.

"Yes," said Severus, his voice sounding strained. "Now would you kindly remove yourself from my personal space?"

"You didn't complain yesterday." The day before Remus had been allowed – he still couldn't believe it – to help Severus brew a potion.

"Then you obviously haven't listened closely enough."

Remus shrugged, hopping from the desk and plopping down into the armchair opposite from Severus. He smiled, watching how the dark-haired man held the wooden spoon, stirring the potion with practised motions, while basking in memories how Severus had managed to stir his emotions.

Remus was ripped from his reminiscing when Severus snapped at him to pay attention. "What? Oh, sorry, what did you-?"

"I told you to meditate or do whatever you think you have to do before you take the potion," the Potions master snarled impatiently. "I hadn't expected you to have an even shorter attention span than those dunderheads... Or aren't you interested anymore?" His hand jerked in the direction of the cauldron. "It's not as if I wanted to brew it in the first place..."

"No, sorry, you're right," Remus said hastily, "I shouldn't have let my mind wander."

"You don't have to confirm that I'm right, but it's reassuring to know we are of the same opinion," said Severus dryly. He spelled the fire out and ladled a few spoonfuls of potion into a goblet. The concoction emitted some puffs of smoke as Severus put the goblet down to cool off enough to be drunken without risk of a burnt tongue.

"Are you sure this is it?" Remus repeated. He couldn't see how this potion was any different from the last ones. "What ingredient did you alter?"

"The most efficient one."

"Now, that's the answer I wanted to hear," Remus muttered sarcastically.

"It's not as if you could understand what I'd be telling you," snapped Severus, throwing the ladle down carelessly. "So don't try to talk to me about potions! You haven't the slightest idea what those fine, simmering-" he stopped, turning abruptly to pick up the fallen ladle.

"Severus?" started Remus cautiously, rising to his feet. "Are you-"

"Yes," the Slytherin Head of House interrupted sharply, "I am all right. Please, refrain from asking trivial questions you are not entitled to hear the answers to!" He drew in a quick breath and turned back to the werewolf. "The potion is ready."

Remus took the proffered goblet with a slight frown. "You are not all right," he dared to object quietly. "And I want you to know that you can talk to me."

Severus didn't answer. Something he had been doing a lot lately.

"All right," Remus sighed. "But I'll not suddenly stop caring just because-"

"Drink already, will you?" snapped Severus. "I still have classes to prepare, papers to correct, you know? The sooner you're out of here, the better!"

Remus rolled his eyes, preparing himself for the foul taste, and then he poured the potion into his mouth, swallowing quickly, trying to forego his taste nubs. It didn't work nearly as well as he would have liked to imagine. Remus almost retched at the taste, not knowing with what he could compare it. The thick concoction travelled down his throat at an extremely unhurried pace, coating it with a flavour he never wanted to experience again. It reminded him faintly of nutmeg, way too much nutmeg, scrubbing down his dry throat.

"Slowly," said Severus with a tense voice, "breathe slowly through your nose!"

Remus heeded the advice mindlessly, though it didn't help the taste. The sick feeling in his stomach, however, quickly dissipated. Cautiously opening his eyes again, Remus sat down in the armchair again, leaning back to stop the spinning of his head. "That was by far the foulest tast-"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Severus quickly, his eyes holding a strange gleam. "Did it work?"

"I didn't turn into a werewolf," said Remus with a look, "but I guess that's to be expected as it is not full moon tonight."

"Can't you stay serious for at least a small expanse of time!"

"I do try, but how should I tell whether it worked?"

Severus sighed in annoyance, seemingly realising the truth of the statement. "How are you feeling?"

"Apart from the still imminent desire to be sick?" At Severus' impatient glare Remus went on quickly, "I don't feel any different than the other times I tasted one of your potions."

Severus' eyes flickered to the empty goblet in his hands. "Hand me the goblet," he said quietly.

Remus held out his hand as the Potions master went around the desk. "Here you are," he said. "You should really start to season your potions. Once you try your own unpleasant tasting concoctions, you'll know why everybody complains constantly."

"More to the right," said Severus, keeping his eyes fixed on the empty goblet.

"Huh?" Remus' gaze flickered downwards, realising that his hand pointed in the wrong direction. Rolling his eyes - really, as if Severus couldn't have picked up the goblet anyways -, Remus thrust it into Severus' waiting hand to the right.

"Thank you." His normally silky voice was husky as he gripped the chalice with both his hands, putting it down carefully.

"Are you feeling better now?" Remus asked carefully. "I know you probably won't be willing to tell me why you were-" He sighed, running a hand through his light brown hair. "I wanted to talk to you, anyways, about what's been happening between us..."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Severus. "Maybe you're suffering from some kind of... hallucinations?" He sneered cruelly. "Something happening between us? Really." He snorted. "If it hadn't been me brewing the potion, I'd be led to believe that it was flawed."

"I'm talking about the kiss," said Remus boldly. "I didn't imagine that, did I?"

"What kiss?" drawled Severus. "Oh, you are talking about the time you forced yourself on me? Was it at least satisfying for you?"

Remus flushed. "I didn't want to force- I just wanted-"

"Do you believe that's an excuse?" the dark-haired man asked snidely. "You didn't want to but you did, anyway?"

"No!" exclaimed Remus, coming to his feet. "That wasn't my intention and you know it! And you did react to my advances! I could feel your heart racing, so don't try and deny it!"

"Desire is not the only human emotion to speed up one's heart beat."

"And this last week? Weren't you flirting back – well almost? Wasn't that happening between us?" How could he warp the reality just the way he wanted to see it? Remus couldn't follow him sometimes.

"The only things happening between us are accidents or attempted murders," Severus said coldly. "Anything else would have been frowned upon by Black, eh?"

Remus sighed. "You know I wasn't in on this stupid prank," he said evenly. "And Sirius is dead and will remain so. I don't know what his exact intent had been back then, but it shouldn't be important any longer, in any case. The now is important. And I want-"

"This isn't about you, you self-centred Gryffindor fool," spat Severus. "Don't you see it?"

Remus sighed again. This would be taking a lot more time than he had anticipated. "It's about you, then?" he asked. "About you asking Albus to brew this potion for me? About you fearing that I would end-up like those werewolves that are dying these days? About you telling me that Albus forced you to do it? What exactly is it about?"

The corners of Severus' mouth curled upwards. "Dumbledore told you, then? Most predictable, isn't he?"

"What are you on about?" Remus frowned.

Severus didn't listen. "Told you that I wanted to help you, didn't he? Even though I explicitly asked him not to. Told you that I needed the recognition, did he?"

"Yes, he-" Remus couldn't follow Severus anymore.

"And he was right, in one point at least," the Potions master smirked. "I do need the recognition; I want the satisfaction of you knowing it was me..."

If the butterflies would have still been in Remus' belly, they wouldn't have fluttered their wings, but gnawed at his insides. Suddenly, the dungeon room seemed more sinister than before, cool air of an unknown origin wafting through Remus' hair, and Severus' whispered words chilled him to the core.

"Severus, you-" Remus stopped short before he could add an embarrassing 'frighten me.' Gryffindors were the brave ones, after all.

"I know, Remus, I know." The Slytherin crossed his arms beneath his heavy robes. "And even you were right with one thing: I am an excellent Legilimens; reading your mind was indeed a simple task."

Remus shivered, though not due to the fact that Severus had said his given name. "When you've read my mind, then you know that-"

"I only took what I needed to know," Severus interrupted haughtily. "Do you really think I'd stay for even one instant longer than absolutely necessary in your animal mind? You don't really know me, do you?"

"I seriously doubt it at the moment," said Remus. He didn't like the route this conversation was taking in the least. He had wanted to use the time to convince Severus to give him a chance but from the looks of it, it didn't seem like he was going to have success.

Severus chuckled. "Do you know what you all had in common? You, Dumbledore, the Dark Lord? You all thought you knew me like no one else. Well, you were wrong."

"But you helped our cause," said Remus faintly. "Voldemort was-"

"-a fool because he believed he owned me," interrupted Severus with a smirk. "He was a skilled Legilimens but he couldn't read anything I wasn't willing to let him see."

"But Albus-"

"Dumbledore," snorted Severus. "Was he able to destroy the Dark Lord? No. He needed a small boy to do his job. Why do you think he was a greater Legilimens, then?"

"Let me help you!" exclaimed Remus suddenly. "I'm sure I can- Even if I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about and why you are telling me all this!"

Severus uncrossed his arms, reaching for a quill that lay on his desk. He studied it closely, twirling it around between his fingers. "I don't believe you will be of any help. You never were. You are as useless as Black was the year he finally died."

"Why can't you let him rest in peace? Yes, he tortured you while he was alive, but you did your fair part, as well."

"Rest in peace," repeated Severus. "They're all dead, aren't they? Your friends, my acquaintances." He brushed the tip of the quill against his lower lip.

"I don't-" Remus choked, pressing a hand to his suddenly racing heart. "I-"

"Didn't I tell you it wasn't about you?" The words slowly seeped through to the werewolf's mind. His breathing was erratic and he stumbled backwards, collapsing back into the armchair.

Colours swam before his eyes, peculiar shapes morphing into objects too fast for his brain to process properly. The armrests beneath his sweaty palms felt entirely too warm all of a sudden. Maybe it was only his imagination.

'What's – going – on?' Remus' mind screamed groggily. He couldn't come up with a suitable answer.

This was different than any other potion testing, different than anything else Remus had ever experienced. And he wasn't sure whether that was good.

And suddenly, Remus knew. The nutmeg, the steaming cauldron, the enigmatic words, the hallucinations. He couldn't believe it. How could he have been so wrong?

His fingers clawed into the armchair, his blood boiling, but Remus was afraid to loosen his grip. He was stronger than the common human, so he had to learn to control his physical power at a very young age. The brown-haired man – the one who wasn't sure anymore whether he was still a werewolf or not – blinked against the garish colour vertigo before it suddenly dissipated into a slower twirling.

Severus came into his view.

Remus' shallow breathing hitched.

He had believed to be in love with someone who was willing to end his life just like that.

Remus realised something else, something essential: Whether the potion had worked, whether the potion's purpose had been to cure him – nothing mattered anymore.

He wasn't the Monster Severus had always claimed to abhor, never had been. He was as human as one could get.

Severus was the Monster.

The last thing Remus' now foggy mind registered was how Severus threw the goblet back down onto the table. He closed his eyes and welcomed the engulfing darkness that rescued him from the excruciating pain breathing caused him.

End-

* * *

A/N: drusillasrain suggested I keep Snape sure of himself until the very end of the story. She said it appeared that he was sick, maybe even suffering from an physical attack (when he was throwing down the ladle). I didn't follow her advice, though, because I decided to let it appear to be a physiological problem. I enjoy dark fics, but only if they're more or less OOC grin

About the poison: Almond is too well-known. If I had written that Remus tasted almond, everyone would have immediately known it's acid. I debated whether I should let it taste like cherries (as the cores include prussic acid, as well), but then again, acid works too quickly. If you swallow enough, you're dead within seconds. Nutmeg is, when you eat too much (I believe five pieces can kill a child), toxic. You're getting hallucinations (like Remus), you're dizzy and sweaty.

It's unsure whether or not Snape killed Dumbledore.

If there were to be a Sequel, Lupin would survive.

It's unsure whether Snape actually drank something of the potion as he stroked his lower lip with the 'quill'.

The dying werewolves: A reviewer of the German version asked whether Snape really did brew these potions for the dark werewolves in Voldemort's army. I didn't even intend to let readers believe this – this wasn't what happened. The werewolves didn't get any potions back then; the transformation isn't dangerous. And the werewolves that are dying these days had only been Snape's test objects for the poison – and, of course, a convenient reason for everyone to believe Snape had good intentions.


End file.
